


on the edge of the warmth of the sun

by daughterofthesky



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Affairs, Ambiguous Relationships, Boys In Love, Coming Out, Confessions, Declarations Of Love, Detention, Difficult Decisions, Falling In Love, Fear of Discovery, Feelings Realization, First Love, Fluff and Angst, High School, Homophobia, Hwang Hyunjin is Whipped, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Love Confessions, Love Triangles, M/M, Popularity, Secret Relationship, Seo Changbin is Whipped, Shy Seo Changbin, Soft Seo Changbin, Song Lyrics, Songwriting, Strangers to Lovers, Teen Crush, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-01 13:55:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16285844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daughterofthesky/pseuds/daughterofthesky
Summary: Yellow; it's the feeling of happiness. The color of the sun. It's the feeling of hope, bubbling under the surface of the skin. It's the sound of laughter and the feeling of joy. It's the warmth of the summer sun dancing across the bare skin and the smile of a little baby, experiencing the world anew. But to Seo Changbin, Hwang Hyunjin is the embodiment of the color yellow. To him, he is the sun. But what happens when the night comes?





	on the edge of the warmth of the sun

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by ["Secret Love Song, Pt. II"](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/423794) by Little Mix. 



> **IMPORTANT:** pls if u feel uncomfortable with homophobia and issues related to it i highly recommend you NOT to read, thank u !  
>  also, time goes by rlly fast sdfgk it's bc i'm trying to get to the whole point of the au :/  
> it turned out WORSE than i thought it would but :/

Changbin was gay. Ever since he was little he just knew he was attracted to boys. He wasn't ashamed of it, but kept it hidden, and growing up, he was shadowed by his parents' constant disgust and refusal towards homosexual people. He always kept quiet, biting his tongue and gulping down his thoughts, nodding and accepting the fact that he couldn't show his true self to his parents in fear of being rejected by them, in fear of being kicked out and shamed. He was a very thoughtful person, and what he didn't say he wrote, notebooks full of lyrics and thoughts and unsaid feelings and remorse and shame towards his cowardice. He could only truly be himself when he was rapping, for his emotions could be fred and expelled towards the outside, and not kept hidden inside of him, pushing their way out. Maybe this was the reason he always wore black clothes; because his true feelings were inside and all that remained, the outside layer, was rotting, trying to keep itself alive and quiet—silenced by his parents' outdated mentality. So he was forced to grow up with an undying feeling of acceptance and fitting in and conformity.

 

 

Changbin kept on pushing stray bits of his lunch aside, piling them up on the corner of his plate. He was sitting alone, waiting for his friends to join him at their usual table in their school's cafeteria. His eyes wandered around the room, taking a look at the different social classes that their school had; the nerds, the athletes, the populars—he resented them, and wondered how it would feel like to be popular himself, how it would be like to be part of that group of people, who were so different from him. His eyes landed on a dark haired boy, sitting on one of the tables in the centre of the room, smiling. He was surrounded by his friends, all perfect smiles and laughs, _so fake_. He stared at him for a while, watching his every move; he was perfect. Changbin bet he had a perfect life with perfect parents, just like every other popular kid in his school. He hoped he wouldn't notice him looking at him. Hyunjin was a guy in his class, but he had never dared to speak a word to him, his social status being above everyone else's. He had a girlfriend, Sooyoung, and together they were the cutest couple in school.  
"Your mind's somewhere else," his friend, Felix, took the seat next to him and offered him a smile. He smiled back, idly curving his lips. He puffed his cheeks, and let out a big sigh. Soon, Seungmin and Jisung were also sitting down and eating lunch with them—Changbin had a small group of friends but he was grateful that at least some people in his life knew about his sexual orientation, it made him feel as though he wasn't alone, and that he didn't have to carry the burden by himself, that a part of him was out, even if it were to three people.  
"How about we do something after school, the four of us?" Jisung proposed, leaning forward.  
"I can't," Changbin said, for once being glad. He loved spending time with his friends, but he needed time for himself too. He liked being alone, unlike most people; he knew he wasn't lonely even if people around him were absent. "I've got detention." He was sure no one would show up, because people skipped not only classes, but detention as well. Plus, he had come to love detention; it was the one place, besides his room, where he could write lyrics without being bothered. Where he could be alone with his thoughts and his feelings and nobody expected anything from him. Solitude was peaceful, soothing.  
"What did you do this time?" Seungmin asked, raising an eyebrow.  
He smiled maliciously. "I may or may not have 'vandalized' the bathroom," he said, air-quoting.  
"So it was you the guy who drew that dragon in one of the bathroom stalls? I should've known," Felix chuckled, bumping his shoulder. He was proud of his work of art; he wasn't only good at songwriting, but at drawing too—he just wasn't that interested in it, that's all. He wasn't proud, though, of being caught, but nevertheless, he didn't regret it. The dragon had been a furore at school, and people had talked about it for a whole week, some girls making their way into the boys' bathroom to take a look at it. It had been scandalous, but it had since been forgotten, and no one talked about it any longer; his fame was short-lived.  
"Why did you draw it?"  
He shrugged, unsure. "I don't know," he said, feeling three pair of eyes on him. He glanced at his hands that were under the table, resting on his thighs. "I just felt like it."  
But soon the chatter died, and they returned to their classrooms after the bell rang and lunchbreak was over. Changbin turned around once more and glanced at Hyunjin, who was now alone, sitting down in the table where he had been before. He looked peaceful, quiet, unlike the way he usually was. Changbin smiled, and caught up with his friends.

 

 

He made his way into the empty classroom and sat down in the last row, next to the window. There was no one besides him in detention, not even a supervisor, and he was pleased. He placed his notebook on the desk and began scribbling, his mind racing, his handwriting messy and wriggly. The warm afternoon sun was beating down on him, and he loved the way his pen looked on the paper, how it gleamed with the light. A few minutes went by in silence, Changbin's hand plastered onto the notebook, until a familiar figure showed up.  
"Hello? Is this detention?" Hyunjin was standing by the door, a few books pressed firmly against his white buttoned shirt. He looked lost and oddly shy; he didn't know popular people could be timid. Changbin raised his head and hummed, nodding. He dropped the pen and straightened up, intimidated by the tall boy. His eyes were pierced onto his as he observed the boy slump into a chair a few rows in front of him. He sighed, tilting his head back and yawning, and Changbin returned to his notebook.  
Changbin's mind ceased rushing and he now lacked words and precision and fluency. He didn't know if it was because he felt intimidated by the other boy in the room or because he couldn't stop thinking about him, and how cute he had looked upon entering the classroom, like a lost puppy. He smiled to himself, blushing, unable to speak a single word; his mind was a colorful mess.  
"What were you writing?"  
Changbin snapped out of his thoughts, engaging with the boy in front of him. He was looking at him now, eyes fixed on his, his hair messy and darker than his clothes could've ever been.  
"Huh?"  
Hyunjin snickered, pointing at what lay in his desk. How he wished he would have disappeared right then. "Your notebook," he said, tilting forward, resting his head on his hands, on the table behind his, "You were writing in it when I came in."  
He gandered down at it; he had written about ten verses, and he wasn't sure he was conformed with it. "Nothing." he replied, but he sounded colder than he intended to. Hyunjin stood up, making his way towards Changbin, sitting down next to him. He impulsively shut close his notebook with a loud swish, and Hyunjin flinched. He tried pushing down the nervousness but his hands were twitching. "Why are you in detention?" he asked, but Changbin was sure he didn't care about it and was making small talk: popular people only cared about themselves. Changbin didn't reply. "I bet you're the guy who drew that dragon in the bathroom."  
Changbin grinned, a part of him unexplainably delighted that he had seen his work of art. "Maybe."  
"Why a dragon?"  
Changbin slackened in his chair. "They are a symbol of power and strength." Things he lacked, but wished he didn't. "I just like them."  
Hyunjin was amused, revealing a teethy smile and closing his eyes, and Changbin was sure he was somehow faking it, trying to make himself look friendly and nice, but he knew popular people were fake and superficial and shallow. "Why are _you_ in detention?" he asked, mustering up courage he didn't know was there inside of him; just the mere thought of being in detention with the most popular kid in their school made him uneasy and anxious, and he wasn't sure he liked his presence at all—he was disrupting his time for himself.  
Hyunjin raised an eyebrow, studying his face for a split second, surprised by his question. Changbin gulped, anticipating the reply. "I got into a small fight, nothing serious." He wasn't sure he believed Hyunjin, but he didn't care enough to keep thinking about it.  
Awkward silence lingered around them, the only sound was the clock in front of the class ticking and filling the empty space. Changbin feared writing in his notebook, he feared Hyunjin peeking into it, into the depth of his heart. He refused to touch his pen and open his notebook again.  
Changbin spent the rest of detention gazing down at the boy next to him, who had fallen asleep, head resting on the table. He didn't like him, but something about him, about the way he had been friendly towards him had made Changbin's heart swoop. He couldn't like him because: one, he barely knew the guy at all—he was popular and had a girlfriend, that's as far as he knew—and two, he was utterly sure he had faked his smiles and his niceness and that deep inside he hated him because, frankly, they were polar opposites. Popular people only liked people like them, with high social status. Still, something inside of Changbin changed that day, and he would only figure it out later on.

 

 

The next time they had a conversation was barely two weeks later, in the same class. Changbin had drawn yet another dragon and would be now stuck in detention for a whole month. As for Hyunjin, he didn't say, shrugging and keeping his reasons to himself. Changbin wondered if it was because he wanted to see him again, to have another conversation with him, to extract more information about him from him.  
"Your drawings are impressive. You're really good." Changbin blushed, head down, focused on his homework; he didn't want to look like he cared, like he was flattered by the comment. He had stopped taking his notebook out in detention, but still carried it around in his backpack, afraid of leaving it behind in case he had a sudden burst of inspiration.  
"I really should stop that though," he found himself saying, his mouth blurting out the words against his will. He figured, he just wanted people to admire the art he was making, and even though he knew it was wrong, he couldn't bring himself to stop creating it. He needed to, at least, free that part of himself.  
"You're brave," he said, standing up, hands in his pockets and looking out the window: outside, the wind was howling warmly. "I wish I could be like you."  
"What do you mean?" he asked, but knew he wouldn't get a reply. Everything was secretive towards him, and he wasn't sure he liked it.  
Hyunjin just smiled.

 

 

Changbin stopped being alone in detention, and he liked the time he spent with Hyunjin. He now felt more comfortable around him, and even though he knew that outside that classroom they were no more than strangers, in detention Hyunjin's walls were broken down, and his status didn't seem to mind, it wasn't of importance. It was safe haven, and he liked it when Hyunjin would open up to him. He felt he was getting to know him better, that he was getting to his core, but still he seemed far, distant, still a stranger. He wanted to consider him a friend, but he was far from it. It amazed him; being distant and yet so close. He knew he was playing with fire, and it was both exciting and mesmerizing.  
"Why are you so secretive towards me?" he found himself saying one afternoon, his heart thudding in his chest; he hadn't meant to say it out loud, he had just been thinking about it and accidentally slipped out of his mouth. Hyunjin wasn't looking at him, his eyes stuck on the clear blackboard.  
"I'm sorry," he simply replied. "I don't mean to."  
Changbin wished he could read his mind, because he was confused as why he as acting this way and what he was hiding from him. He was always nice with him but never answered him concrete things, he never answered truthfully and it infuriated him a bit; knowing that he was making an effort and Hyunjin wasn't. At least, it didn't look like it. "I know we've only known each other for a few weeks now, but in this room, you can tell me anything. I want us to be friends."  
Hyunjin smirked, unamused, narrowing his eyes. "I wish we could be friends too," he said, to Changbin's surprise. "But I can't be seen hanging out with _you_."  
Changbin wished those words hadn't hurt him, but he couldn't lie to himself. Hyunjin was right after all: people as unpopular as Changbin could ruin Hyunjin, and he knew deep down inside that he didn't want that to happen. Perhaps Hyunjin's outer layer was all there was to it, all that mattered to him, and he wouldn't want to damage it. He wouldn't want to break who Hyunjin was. "I know, but no one's gonna see you with me here."  
Hyunjin beamed into a smile. "Fine," he said, taking out his hand, "From now on, we're friends."  
"Good," Changbin said, sealing the beginning of their secretive friendship with a warm handshake.

 

 

"You really shouldn't stop writing in your notebook because I'm here."  
Changbin smiled, crinkling his eyes. "No, it's fine. I don't really write much in it anyways."  
"Yes you do."  
Hyunjin was standing by the window behind Changbin, his hair disheveled, his eyes closed. He had his hands in his pockets, and one foot against the wall; he looked right out of a movie, or a magazine. "How do you know so much about me?"  
Hyunjin smiled, wrinkles round the corner of his lips. "I'm very observative. I see what people do, what they love. I like it, how they show their passion."  
"What's your passion?"  
Hyunjin sighed. "I don't have one," he simply said, his head resting against the wall.  
"You love dancing, don't you?" he asked, turning around to face him. Hyunjin didn't even flinch. "I remember you used to love it when we were kids." Because it was true; Changbin remembered that Hyunjin was the best dancer their class had, and that he would use breaks to practice brand new moves, the rest of the class watching from afar as if he were some kind of idol.  
Silence lingered enough for Changbin to realise they had made a step further into their friendship, a step they couldn't take back. "I do."  
"Then why aren't you on the dancing team?" he inquired, and he regretted it right away; it was starting to look like a questioning, and he didn't want to be too pushy and make Hyunjin uncomfortable. But Changbin wanted to know more, dig in deeper; reach its nucleus.  
"I have a reputation to uphold," he mumbled, shame in his tone. He was about to break down, Changbin thought. "I can't do what I really want to do, _be_ who I want to be," he hesitated, his lips beginning to twitch. Yet his tone was neutral. "I don't expect _you_ to understand."  
Changbin stood up, banging his fist against the desk, facing Hyunjin. He clenched his jaw, feeling his veins tense. Changbin usually wasn't like this, raged and outspoken, but it infuriated him that he couldn't reach out to Hyunjin, that he kept pushing him away when all he had been trying to do was make him feel at ease, to reconnect with his inner self, the part of him he had been denying for the longest time and that was rotting inside of him, just like Changbin. "Why do you push me away? You keep doing this," he snapped, "I want to help you, to get closer to you but you keep pushing me away. You avoid the questions and—" he trailed off, now realising he had held his breath and needed some air. His heart was violently pumping in his ribcage and it ached to feel so many things at the same time and be unable to express himself properly without the need to write them down. "Let me in," he whispered, rendering completely to him.  
Hyunjin slipped out a tear, and Changbin swore he had never seen something so angelically beautiful and ethereal and breathtaking and tragic and heartbreaking in all his life. He looked like an angel, his tear gleaming with the sunlight. Perhaps he had broken down Hyunjin's walls. He lurched forward and wrapped his arms around the shorter, burying his head in his neck. Changbin wrapped his arms around him and held him in his arms, until he was done unbottling his feelings and his cries were no more than whimpers.  
He took a step back, hands on Changbin's shoulders. "There are so many things I've always wanted to say, to take out of me but never did because I can't. I feel trapped."  
They sat down again, Hyunjin wrapping his arms around himself and tilting his head forward, sight fixed on the ground.  
"I hate being popular and looked up on and admired and the centre of attention and I hate that people think I'm perfect and that I'm never sad or angry or that they think I don't have feelings because I'm always smiling and laughing. I hate that I have to hide what I like, my passions and insecurities and fears and that people don't really care about me and sometimes I feel I'm only loved because of the way I look, of a superficial idea they have of me. I hate the so called 'perfection' that engulfs me but I'm terrified to break free. I feel like nobody really knows me.  
"And I know I look laidback and that nothing really gets to me but I fight my demons too just like everybody else. I've been fighting them all my life. But I'm a coward, I'm frightened, I'm frightened that I'll be rejected and unloved and unwanted if I show who I truly am. If I show my inside."  
Changbin had been staring at his lips the whole time, watching them spill those words into the world with such rawness and truth and he knew right then that he knew the real Hyunjin, that he had reached the depth of his heart; his _core_. "I can assure you, I know how you're feeling."  
For a few moments, nothing happened. Time briefly stopped and they gazed at each other, the prettiest brown eyes he had ever seen fixed on his like some kind of magnetic attraction; he could see Hyunjin's eyes sparkle, like there was electricity running through his iris. He felt like Hyunjin was looking right through his soul, nothing but sincerity and appreciation behind them. "I don't love my girlfriend," he muttered, lips slowly moving. "Sooyoung is a great person, she's funny and caring—" he stopped, taking a deep breath; he was about to blurt out his biggest, most hidden secret. The ticking bomb was seconds away from exploding. "But I'm gay."  
As if those words had unleashed a password, a secret code that broke a spell, Hyunjin leaned forward, lips inches from each other. Changbin leaned forward as well, narrowing the distance between them; he could now feel Hyunjin's breathing on his face. Like a new beginning, a sweet meeting, their lips met each other, and were now pressed lightly onto the others'. It was gentle, Hyunjin's hand on Changbin's chin, lightly raising it. It lasted for a few seconds, not more, before Changbin pulled away, opening his eyes to face a now different Hyunjin; things had changed between them, and they had now newly found feelings.  
They kissed again; this time Changbin leaned forward, and Hyunjin smiled into the kiss, raking a hand through his hair and getting a good handful to pull him closer. They had both found a new side of themselves and even though Changbin knew it was wrong, he couldn't bring himself to stop; it felt _right_. It felt like he was finally getting the happiness he deserved, and his heart was bursting with joy—nothing but bliss—, his cheeks blushing like never before and he had never experienced something so magical in his life. He didn't want it to cease, and deep inside, he yearned for more. Kissing Hyunjin felt like he was finally embracing himself, it felt like the world finally loved him and appreciated his existence and who he truly was and how he was feeling inside, and he felt loved by Hyunjin. He never felt more like himself; he never felt more at _home._

 

 

Detention was not the only place where they had makeout sessions; the bathrooms where also great places to push each other's back against the wall and kiss the existence out of the other. That is, they had to be careful and silent, even though that was not always the case; Changbin had the gift of making Hyunjin giggle. Like, real giggles. Uncontrollable giggles. Genuine giggles. Changbin loved that noise, and he always made the inevitable to make him burst into happiness and make him laugh, because the world needed his joy. Changbin longed for his joy. He knew that Hyunjin didn't pretend near him, and that he was wholeheartedly himself. He liked having that power; the power of taking out the real Hyunjin.  
The bathroom was not the best place to spend time with Hyunjin because it smelled nasty and there was no fresh air, but he didn't complain because he would look forward to their encounters, and seeing Hyunjin smiling back at him gave him the assurance that what they had was real, that it wasn't pretend and that neither of them were faking their feelings. At first he had been insecure, thinking that Hyunjin wouldn't come back to him and that he wouldn't see him again. He had thought that what they had shared had been a once in a lifetime scenario, and had convinced himself it wouldn't happen again, so that it wouldn't hurt him—that it wouldn't get to him. But Hyunjin had come back, and had pleaded for more. And Changbin had given in to him.

 

 

“I love you,” he said one day, during one of their makeout sessions in the bathroom, in between desperate kisses. They hadn't seen each other all week. Hyunjin had his arms around Changbin's neck, and the shorter had his hands on his chest, fiddling with the loose buttons of his white school shirt. Changbin tensed, those three words never being spoken between them before. He blushed, pressing more kisses onto Hyunjin's lips, and down the trail of his jaw. Hyunjin giggled, Changbin smiled.  
“I love you too,” he replied, confirming what he had felt all along. And the session continued.

 

 

"Am I allowed to ask why you're wearing a scarf? I didn't know you had one of those."  
Changbin blushed at Felix's question, cheeks burning, sinking in his seat as he gulped, knowing what hid underneath it; evidence of one of their encounters. So, he had to keep it undercover. "No," he replied, and as soon as that word was out he stuffed more food into his mouth, avoiding further questions.

 

 

But they didn't just make out and sneak out of class to spend time together; they texted every night, Changbin would occasionally send him lyrics he had been working on. He was pleased with Hyunjin's responses, and the fact that he took his time to give him feedback on them. He was more inspired than ever, words coming straight out of his heart into his notebook, pages filled with words he didn't know he had inside. With words that seemed simple but meant a vast of others. His notebook bloomed the same way their love did. He adored these little moments, for they did not have to hide —nor rush— and have caution. Hyunjin was his first love, even if they weren't officially dating and what they had was wrong. But it felt so wrong it had to be right. He felt like Hyunjin painted his inside with brand new colors he had never seen before and that he was sure didn't exist anywhere else, taking what was once his outer darkness and replacing it with a color that overshadowed each moment they were together. It made him feel alive. Still, they both knew there were limits they couldn't cross.

 

 

_Yellow. What is yellow? Yellow is a color. It is the color between orange and green on the spectrum of visible light, being the most luminous of them all. It is evoked by light with a dominant wavelength of roughly 570-590 nm. It is a primary color in the subtractive color systems, used in painting or color printing. In the RGB color model, used to create colors on television and computer screens, yellow is a secondary color made by combining red and green at equal intensity. Carotenoids give the characteristic yellow color to autumn leaves, corn, canaries, daffodils and lemons, as well as egg yolks, buttercups, and bananas. They absorb light energy and protect plants from photodamage. Sunlight has a slight yellowish hue, due to the surface temperature of the sun._

 

 

The next time Changbin and Hyunjin saw each other was at a party; Hyunjin had secretly invited him to go with him, but of course, they couldn't show up together and Changbin urged Jisung to go with him so that he wouldn't be alone; so that he wouldn't feel lonely and like an outcast, like a misfit. He hadn't told him about their relationship, or about their makeout sessions in detention or in the bathroom stalls, but his friend was not oblivious and knew that something was up with him, that something was going on, and he wasn't sure he liked it. Maybe he could see it the way Changbin's eyes lit up every time he spotted him during lunchtime or the way he was now writing compulsively, as if he had become addicted to it and writing it down was a daily dose.  
"Are you absolutely sure this is what you want?" Jisung was sitting in the driver's seat, leaning out the window, motioning him to get in. Changbin huffed, rolling his eyes and making himself comfortable in the passenger's seat. "For the third time, yes. Now let's go."  
The rest of the ride went by slower than he would have wanted, occasionally eyeing his friend, who looked upset but did the best he could to push those thoughts away. Changbin knew Jisung since they were kids, and he was his best friend, above Felix and Seungmin. He just knew him too well to know something was bothering him.  
"What is it?" he said, his voice flat and loud. Jisung didn't flinch, didn't turn to him, his eyes fixed on the road and the red light that was now shining down on them.  
"Why don't you tell me?"  
"What do you mean?" he said, eyes on Jisung. But his friend was neutral, not a single expression on his face.  
"I said, you tell me." Jisung turned to face a confused Changbin, his eyes piercing his. There was fire behind them, but his tone was monotonous. "What do you want from me?"  
"Can we please not do this now?" he said, blowing out his cheeks. He had figured him out, the way he always did. "I know what you're thinking, you know?"  
Jisung sneered, huffing. "Oh, you know now, don't you? Then tell me, what am I thinking?"  
"You know about me and Hyunjin and you're afraid I'm gonna get hurt, is that it?" he snapped, his face turning red but he looked away, his eyes fixed on the starry night. He didn't like evading him, and regretted saying it so bluntly. He didn't look back at him, and Changbin knew he was expecting something else, some kind of apology or just a change in topic. But nothing happened and the light turned green.

 

 

_Yellow is a common color of flowers; such as Acacia dealbata (silver wattle), Aconitum lycoctonum (northern wolfsbane), Narcissus pseudonarcissus (daffodils), Arthemis tinctoria (golden marguerite), Anthyllis vulneraria (common kidneyvetch), Arnica montana (leopard's bane), Balsamorhiza sagittata (arrowleaf balsamroot), and Brugmansia aurea (angel's trumpet). Other plants are the Rapeseed (Brassica napus),—also known as rape or oilseed rape, a bright yellow flowering member of the family Brassicaceae (mustard or cabbage family)—and the Goldenrod, that is a yellow flowering plant in the family Asteraceae._

 

 

They could hear the blasting music from three blocks away, the whole street packed with cars and motorcycles and people walking around with red cups in their hands. That was how they knew they had arrived, because he had never been to Chan's house before. It was by far the fanciest house on the block. They made their way through the crowd into the house and back the garden, where the people and the upbeat music seemed to fade. He remembered how much he actually hated parties; he hated the crowd and alcohol and witnessing people throw up in front of his face and the stinking smell and obnoxious people kissing random strangers, but the one thing he liked about them was the loud music. He loved music, low or high it was the same to him: it still had the ability to transport him somewhere else, any place but where he was. And there was nothing but true freedom in that.  
"I'm gonna get a drink, do you want something?" He shook his head, and Jisung made his way back inside and didn't come out again; he wasn't expecting him to return though. And then there he was, leaning against a tree, admiring an environment he felt a stranger in, an atmosphere he knew he didn't belong in, not now and not ever. He felt stupid, and doubted whether he should text Hyunjin and get out of there. He was alone, the people around him glancing at the shady figure but he didn't mind; he was used to being the odd one, the one that just simply didn't fit in—he didn't try to fit in either.  
He caught a glimpse of Hyunjin in between the people, by the door, barely a figure in the distance. He had his hair combed to one side, and he had black ripped jeans matched with a black silk shirt, buttons loosened up, chest bare, and sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He looked like a model, walking down the catwalk as he made his way towards him. He smiled upon his presence, turning around once more and doublechecking that he wasn't being followed.

 

 _Yellow is the most visible color from a distance, so it is often used for objects that need to be seen. It is also used for warning signs, since yellow traditionally signals caution, rather than danger._ _Y_ _ellow is the color most associated with optimism and pleasure; it is a color designed to attract attention, and it is used for amusement._

 

 

"Come," he said amid the music, his voice husky, taking his hand and dragging him even further into the garden. Changbin didn't know where they were going but he just followed his steps, his hand still in Hyunjin's; they were warm, and way bigger and skinnier than his.  
"I'm so glad you're here," he said, letting go of his hand and kissing him softly on the cheek. He could barely see him in the dark, the trees obstructing the light from the stars. They were completely surrounded by trees, and he had failed to notice Chan's garden had a forestlike part in the back of it. But he was warm, and he could feel his pleasant presence.  
"How do you know your way around here so well?" he asked, but regretted it right away. He sounded silly, Chan was friends with Hyunjin. He slumped his shoulders, embarrassment rushing through his face in the form of a blush, his ears burning.  
"We're childhood friends, me and Chan," he said, and Changbin could hear him clearly; the music was nothing more than a mere background noise—it was low and they were far from it. "I know his house like the palm of my hand. We used to always play hide and seek here."  
Hyunjin smiled at him, a mix of nostalgia and melancholy behind his curved lips. But the melancholy didn't last long, "I saw Jisung back inside. He was talking to someone."  
"He likes this kind of stuff."  
"Do you?"  
He crinkled his nose. "Not really. But I do like the music."  
Hyunjin smiled, but didn't say anything right away; he gazed at Changbin, and he knew he was trying to figure him out. "Why?" he asked. "Why loud music? It's perforating and it makes my ears hurt sometimes." There was a mix of confusion and curiosity in his tone, his voice low.  
"Any music, whether is low or high or just there, hiding behind some other noise. It's just an anomaly where the words and music are accompanied by transcend a piece of reality and the flow of time inside it. It seemingly allows me to travel inside memories I've lost, or places I've never seen, and letting go of my emotions, feelings I was so scared to acknowledge. So, yeah," he shrugged, his eyes fixed on the grass below his feet. "It's not that I like any kind of music. I like what lies behind it."  
Hyunjin let the faded music linger between their bodies and then held out his hand, like inviting him to spend a forever with him. "Dance with me, Binnie," he said, his voice soft like a whisper. He wasn't fond of people calling him Binnie, but this was different: there was no mockery behind it—no teasing—, just sweetness. And even though he hated dancing and was terrible at it (he had absolutely no rhythm in his bones), he just simply couldn't say no to a once in a lifetime invitation, he couldn't turn it down no matter how hard a part of himself was shouting for him to back down—he was going to embarrass himself. So he took his hand and took a few steps forward, chests pressed against each other. Hyunjin landed a hand around Changbin's hips and smiled at him, like a way of saying everything would be alright. But Hyunjin was a few inches taller and Changbin had to raise his head to look at him; those perfectly shaped eyes of him gazing down at him full of tenderness. They slowed danced in the dark to an upbeat song in the background; but nevertheless it was special and would remain forever plastered on his mind. Hyunjin placed a quick kiss on his forehead and he smiled, his heart hammering in his chest; he was falling in love all over again.  
He couldn't see him, but it didn't matter; he could feel their hearts beating at the same time, to the same beat. He could feel his warmth; he was made of _sunlight_. Even in the dark, he sparkled like sunshine; his eyes glinting even in the darkest of places. Hyunjin's moves were smooth and sweet but demanding, his body slowly moving with the rhythm of the song. It felt like some kind of paradise he could never be a part of, but that was now being poured onto him like gold. He felt immense joy, and he felt like he was spinning round like a kaleidoscope and there was nothing there but pure bliss. And colors, the most radiant, vibrant colors he had ever witnessed.  
"I wish we could be dancing inside on the dancefloor instead of out _here._ " Here didn't just mean the fact that they could barely see each other, or that they were completely in the dark and surrounded by trees—far from romantic—, but the fact that they were _there_ , hiding, that they had to keep their love hidden and forbidden from the rest of the world, from society. That their kind of love couldn't be touched by the outside world, because they wouldn't understand; because it was wrong. This love had to be kept in the dark, where only the true eyes could see in between what was real and what was fake, what was pretend and what was not. They were special in a way; having the ability to keep a part of themselves in absolute darkness—not something either of them were proud of, but instead pitiful. Resentful, because they couldn't be out there being themselves like everybody else, because society had been cruel to them. Because society just simply didn't understand, and judging them and turning their backs on them was easier than trying to be more open minded. Than trying to be more _human._  
Hyunjin stopped dancing, his arms slowly letting go of Changbin, like he had just been shot with a reality gun: they could pretend but deep down inside they were both hurt by their kind of love. He knew that having a girlfriend was a way of shielding himself from what he really felt, from what society couldn't cope with, and that even though it was an effective shield, he wished he didn't have the need to use it. He wished he could be free, unshielded. "Me too, Binnie," he barely croaked, his voice shaking, "Me too."  
Changbin wiped Hyunjin's tear away, his hand gently cupping his face. "We could, you know," he said, slowly choosing his words. "We really could say how we feel."  
Hyunjin laughed, but he wasn't amused; he was trying to hide how he felt inside, like he always did—Changbin wished it wasn't like that. Society and popularity and perfection had molded him into something he didn't want to be, but that he had to embrace and make a part of himself, and Changbin could see it coming through the cracks in his heart, through his silent cries which always meant he had been holding on for far too long, and was tired of pretending and being perfect all the time. Even though Changbin didn't know how that felt, he knew it was tough, and that Hyunjin was strong for keeping it hidden for so long, and faking feelings that weren't there.  
"There is absolutely no way I'm coming out to everyone," he replied coldly, flinching away and turning his back on him. "I can't. I'm not ready yet."  
Changbin smiled out of pity and disappointment, but he was comprehensive and understood his position; after all, he had been there before, and remembered the paralyzing pain of telling his best friends who he truly was inside. "It's okay. I'm sorry." He reached out for his hand and stroked it, hands cold and soft.  
"Come on," he said, gently holding his hand back. "I'll drive you home."

 

 

Changbin cried all the way home, sinking in his seat, silent tears streaming down his face which he tried to hide, wipe away with his sleeves but his eyes gave him away. They were full of regret and pain. The tears were evidence of the pain he had burden with all his life, and a part of that pain was making its way to the outside, fitting through the cracks in his heart and out into the world. He felt so vulnerable, so weak and coward; because they had to hide.  
Hyunjin parked the car right in front of his house but he refused to get out. He glanced at Hyunjin once more, his face completely neutral and calm, but his eyes gleamed in misery.  
"Tonight was nice," he said, hands on the steering wheel. He didn't look back at him, Changbin knowing it hurt him to see him in this situation; so tormented. "Thank you for coming."  
Changbin didn't reply, now hugging his knees closer to his chest, burying his head in his legs. He was shattered, but didn't want to show it—but Hyunjin could read it on his face, even if it was now covered. "I see you," he said, eyes still fixed on the road, but glancing at Changbin once more before he continued, voice soft and low, husky. "I see the pain in those eyes. It has been there all your life, but has now intensified because of me. Your eyes are trapped in a confusion we all carry," he took a deep breath, his voice now shaking. Changbin feared it would break, and that tears would start falling off his eyes too. "I see love, too. I see it when you look at me, not just when we're together, but when we're not too. I can feel them on me, and I know you feel like I can't give it back, that I can't give you back the amount of love you give me because I'm way more scared than you are even if I don't show it to you. One day, I'll set you free. I'm not perfect and yet I love you, and I know what love means. Give me a chance to find my feet, to stop my whole world from spinning and I'll prove it to you once I'm ready. One day I'll join you in the pain, I'll walk with you, feel the same torture that society imposes on you. One day we'll be at home, at peace and nothing will touch us and nothing will drive us away."  
Changbin gulped, pushing down the rest of the tears and the whimpers he wanted to get rid of. He glanced at Hyunjin, who was now looking back at him, still the same neutral expression on his face. "I just wish I could kiss you on the dancefloor and hold you in my arms without the need to hide, to keep behind close doors. This love," he said, his voice cracking and trying to keep itself stable but failing to do so, "This love needs light."  
Hyunjin nodded, leaning forward and wiping his tears away with his delicate touch. He let his hand linger in his cheek and smiled, leaning even forward and planting a kiss onto Changbin's twitching lips. His hand clasped gently into the back of his hair, pressing in softly. After a few seconds he broke away and smiled, “I wish that it could be like that.” The look on Changbin's face told him everything, there wasn't the outrage there should have been, but instead there was a message behind Changbin's puffy eyes: _I'm yours._  
"I know," he muttered, drifting away. He got out of the car feeling like the whole world had conspired against them, holding himself against the cruelness of the night and of society. He staggered towards his front door, making his way home with tears pouring down his face, with a runny nose and his feelings overwhelmingly intense. He couldn't stop the silent tears from rolling down; hiding his feelings had been his most challenging obstacle yet.  
But a hand reached out to him before he got to the doorknob, feeling like a lifesaver had been thrown at him from the vastness of a drowning ocean he had been unknowingly a part of all along. He softly muttered as he held him in his arms, Changbin burying his head in his chest, his dampened face against Hyunjin's warm chest, "I love you." As if he knew precisely what he needed, he cupped his face and gazed at him, kissing the tears away delicately as if his skin was made of glass—a glass that could break away in any moment. Changbin's entire body froze for a second when he kissed his cheeks, his body unable to react to the tenderness behind his actions; there was no harshness, no desperation, he was gentle and smooth, careful. He pulled back and stared at him once more, eyes shimmering. Then he went forward, lips softly crashing into each other, fingers slowly twinning together while they kissed softly for what seemed like forever. "I wish that it could always be like this. And this," he said, referring to the kiss, "will never be enough. It hurts me that we have to hide the fact that you're not mine and I'm not yours." Changbin half-smiled, but Hyunjin could see right through him, like a mirror: he saw himself in him.  
Hyunjin turned around and walked towards his car, eyes on the starry night. He took a look at Hyunjin once more and went inside without looking back, knowing that Hyunjin had begun to cry.

 

 

_Yellow is the color of ambivalence and contradiction; the color associated with optimism and amusement, but also with betrayal, duplicity, jealousy and cowardice. Yellow is the color of virtue and nobility._

 

 

A few weeks had gone by since the party when the announcement of prom flooded through the school like a plague. They had been dating in secret for half a year, and they knew that sooner or later that night would be stolen away from them, and that no matter how special it was, how much they wanted to go together as dates, they wouldn't be spending it side by side. They couldn't have prevented that from happening, and nothing would have changed, but they still had pity. Hyunjin asked Sooyoung out, and Changbin ultimately decided to go with his group of friends, his first option being that of skipping the whole night and stay indoors, watching a movie or writing lyrics about disappointment, regret and rage.

Changbin hated wearing suits, so when he had to put one on for prom night, he regretted accepting his friends' invitation right away. He didn't look like himself—he didn't feel like himself either—and he felt uncomfortable without his usual black hoodie and jeans. Looking at himself in the mirror, he wondered what Hyunjin would be wearing and how would he style his hair—knowing how much he cared about looks—, but he knew that everything looked good on him and that he would really make an impact when he arrived. Changbin smiled at himself, smile gleaming in the mirror. He forced the nervousness away by singing to himself, mind momentarily easing off the unpleasant thoughts.  
Jisung, Felix and Seungmin looked dashing in their suits, and they were all excited and anxious. They were all radiant and immensely happy—except Changbin, even though he wanted that happiness to get to him, to be contagious and make him feel the same way they were feeling. He couldn't help but imagine an alternate reality; what it would have been like to go with Hyunjin and give him a flower and kiss his cheek while taking out his hand and inviting him inside the car to go to prom together as dates. He quickly pushed those thoughts away and promised himself he wouldn't think about them again tonight, deeply hoping he would actually keep his promise and save himself the pain. Still, the nausea remained at the pit of his stomach, this uneasiness being the fruit of his insecurity and uncertainty and hopelessness.

Their school's gymnasium looked festive in balloons and the floor covered in confetti and glinting dresses and smoke and darkness. The committee had done a great job decorating the gymnasium, so much it didn't seem like they were at school at all; it felt as if they were walking into a new place they had never seen before, maybe in their dreams or movies but that was utterly uncharted. The dim lights and the music fit perfectly and it wasn't too intrusive but calm and quite peaceful. Upon entering, they could already hear a buzz of excited talk; people wandering from the dance floor to the 'non-alcoholic' punch, the girls with high-heels and puffy dresses, boys with well-fitted suits and flowers in their front pockets. It looked like fun, but Changbin couldn't help himself and knew that his thoughts—the voices at the back of his head—would ruin the night to him, and he couldn't help but feel upset about it. Unlike him, his friends had already fused with the music and had made their way to the dance floor, bodies swiftly moving with the rhythm of the upbeat song blasting through the speakers. The whole atmosphere made him feel as if he was inside a painting in a museum; skirts swimming about their slender feet and their partners like puppets following their wavering moves, limbs in constant motion. He stood still for a while, leaning against the wall in the corner of the room, hands in his pockets just admiring the work of art he was witnessing; people talking through their moves, and how much he actually overlooked body language all these years. It just awed him how people could have so much fun with something as simple yet as complicated as dancing. And how he could feel so distant yet present, yet in another world. Yet completely immersed in a reality that seemed surreal. Yet completely dazed in what seemed like a never-ending fantasy.

The gymnasium was swarming, fast moving, until he stepped into the room. Then time stopped. Amid the music and the haze and the smoke and the people and the punch, Changbin caught a glimpse of Hyunjin, hand in Sooyoung's, making his way to the dance floor like they owned the place: all eyes on them, like magnets. He looked alluring, his black suit matching his now swept up black hair, a choker round his neck, his eyes gleaming with a mix of excitement and fascination and ecstasy. Hyunjin had an endearing little grin that sent Changbin's heart swooping and his lungs begging for more air. He looked extraordinary, overly attractive and like royalty, nobility. And yet he was exactly that to Changbin; a prince.  
He watched as he invited his girlfriend to dance with him, holding out his hand the same way he had done with him, a pleasant grin on his face. Why did he feel so betrayed? He poured some more punch into his cup and kept on watching, the nausea rising up inside of him but he didn't care: the jealousy and rage and disappointment had to be pushed down with something, with anything that wouldn't make him burst into tears. Changbin knew he had signed up for this, but he never imagined it would be this hard; watching Hyunjin look at Sooyoung the same way he had looked at him, with the same light, had destroyed him. He wanted to be Sooyoung, just for tonight at least, he wanted to have the same privileges she had. He wanted to be the one to dance with Hyunjin, he wanted to take her place but he knew he couldn't, and that was even more heartbreaking. So he just watched quietly in the corner of a room he felt a stranger in, and couldn't help but wish that night would be over already, and that he would go back to his room to write some more depressive lyrics about the numbness and emptiness and darkness he had been feeling lately, and that he couldn't deal with any longer.  
His eyes never left him, tracing every move he made on the dance floor, just watching him dance like he never did before. He was a silhouette in the dark, beneath the dry-ice smoke swirled an array of blues, acid greens, hot pinks and gold that flashed onto him with glints of light: he looked iridescent and it was idyllic and dazzling and mesmerizing at the same time, how well he blended with the people and the music and the atmosphere as a whole. He belonged there, and always had; it felt as if he was staring at the one thing he could never have, and it was both overwhelming and crushing. He glowed in the dark, his eyes flickering like flames, and Changbin swore that if those eyes ever dared to fall onto his, he would catch on fire. The last thing he needed right now was turn into ashes.  
His stomach turned unhelpfully and he felt his skin turn clammy when a slow song came on, interrupting the dazed dancers and the hypnotized dates: the upbeat songs had been playing for the last hour and a half and people still had overflowing energy in their bones, too much to slow down and calm down their breathing and dance delicately. But Changbin wasn't astounded by the sudden change in music, but by what he was witnessing: Hyunjin making his way towards him with an odd smile on his face, as if he was about to catch his prey. He froze, his mouth slowly dropping. It just wasn't real, he kept thinking this wasn't happening.  
"What are you doing?" he asked when he was close enough. "Are you insane?" His mind was playing a thousand different scenarios, alternative realities in which Hyunjin's reputation as the most popular guy in his school dropped and he was openly gay and had broken up with Sooyoung and they finally had a proper relationship. Scenarios which were unreal, which were just his mere imagination. His blood froze.  
"Don't look at me like that," he said, his lips slipping a smile. "I'm finally breaking free. I'm me."  
Changbin could feel everyone in the room staring at them amid the dark and the blasting music but he was lacking air. Oxygen. He couldn't breathe, his mind reeling with a million questions and the confusion was too much to bear: he felt he was going to faint.  
"What are you doing?" he repeated, his eyes drifting from Hyunjin's to the ground and back up again: disbelief.  
His smile was warm, like the sun. "Dance with me, Binnie," he said, and he somehow felt like he was back at Chan's party, nothing but the two of them in plain darkness, their bodies warm against each other. He felt as if time hadn't gone by at all, and that all this time he had been watching the story of his life, a tape winding up until this moment. The moment of revelation, the epitome of absolute truth, the epiphany of their love story. And it did feel right, but it was odd at the same time, thinking that they had gone this far and everything had turned all right for them. That their happy ending was just around the corner, shining down their path like a new sunrise, like a brand new beginning, yet they had been on this same path for the last couple of months.  
"Are you sure that this is what you want?" he asked, his voice muffled against the loud noise of this world; reality.  
Hyunjin stared down at him, and nodded. "Like I've never been before." He smiled one of those smiles that meant everything was going to be alright, and Changbin believed him like he always did. He took out his hand and held Hyunjin's, who made their way to the center of the dance floor, the dashing lights glittering down on them as if they were being touched by Heaven. It felt good, like euphoria. Like both of their souls were being transcended into a greater good. And it was both magical and ethereal, out of this world.  
But they were alone—they felt alone. They felt like they were the only people in the world, dancing in the dark, finally themselves in a world that was brand new to them. The music was loud but it was sweet, the lights were flickering but he could still see Hyunjin's eyes gleaming, guiding him out of complete darkness. He was the sun after all, always keeping him warm even in the coldest of places. He knew he wasn't alone—not now, not ever. He was painting him with love, appreciation, care, admiration, passion and he loved being touched by his words, by his actions, by his eyes. By his sunlight, by his warmth.  
And he danced. He followed Hyunjin's moves and was moving with the rhythm of his heartbeat, his pace steady and energetic, his body adjusting to Hyunjin's guiding feet and the melody just flowed through his veins, and he swore he had his feet off the ground, body on fire. And he spaced out, like his soul had evaporated through the pores of his skin. He was experiencing a new kind of music, a new way of appreciating the sound of happiness. He felt like no words could ever describe what he was feeling right now, and that he would never be able to write it down and turn it into lyrics because this feeling lacked words; precision. It was ambiguous yet it made him feel full, like all this time he had needed this to happen so that he could finally fill the emptiness he had felt all his life. They were in utopia; it was perfection, and it was sublime and magnificent and flawless, nothing like he could have ever imagined. He was in a state of nirvana.  
And it meant so much more; it represented the end and the beginning. Hyunjin was free and now Changbin was free as well and nothing would get in the way of their love and nothing would get in the middle of their requited feelings for each other— _that_ was what made him cry, the fact that society couldn't get in between them anymore. When they were done, Hyunjin gave him a loopy grin. But he never wanted it to cease, he wanted to dance all night if it meant replaying that feeling over and over again on a never-ending loop until there was nothing to feel anymore. He wanted to freeze this moment until the stars disappeared and the sun rebirthed a million times and the end of the world came because he was certain that with Hyunjin by his side, his world would never cease existing.

 

 

But, that _never_ happened.

 

 

Changbin took a few more sips of his punch and headed out, tears beginning to blurry his vision as he made his way through the couples and the lone students and the teachers until he was out. The night was cold and he found himself shivering, small visible puffs of air coming out of him into the cloudless, starry night; but it was peaceful. He had been tired of watching Hyunjin dance with Sooyoung and couldn't take it any longer; he knew he was wretched and that he couldn't keep on witnessing Hyunjin continuously break his heart and watch its pieces scattered around the floor and turning into no more than dust. He clenched his fists and swore he would never fall in love again, even though he knew he was being unfair. It was part of their agreement, of their relationship, after all: Hyunjin was not breaking the rules. He was doing precisely what he said he would be doing but Changbin was unable to cope with the fact that Sooyoung was not him, and that their love was still behind close doors. He paced worriedly, hands on his face desperately erasing the trace of his agony and misery. He felt his chest tighten up, as if his muscles were attempting to suffocate him. His breath, shallow, lungs unable to move against the suddenly heavy and rigid ribs. Then his mind followed, becoming static and malfunctioning, replaying the pain over and over again until he found himself on the bare floor, limbs loose, too weak to keep on holding the weight of his body. He felt the rawness and cruelness of the world embracing him, and he couldn't pull away, it crept along his legs up his arms until his heart was cold as ice, hard as rock. He had been exposed to a reality he wasn't prepared for, and he felt broken yet numb. Yet empty.  
But a warm hand on his shoulder snapped him back to life, and he realized he had been drowning all along, sinking down his unsaid thoughts. "Changbin." Hyunjin was kneeling down beside him, his eye makeup smudged and messy but he still looked attractive. He was concerned, eyebrows raised and mouth open.  
"What are you doing here?" he managed to croak, without turning around, without facing him. "You should be inside with Sooyoung."  
He nodded, "I know but I couldn't see you anywhere. I couldn't _feel_ your eyes on me, I was worried."  
"How come Sooyoung didn't follow you here?"  
"I told her I was going to the bathroom."  
Changbin smiled loopily, "She's so naive, so gullible. She's too good for you, you know."  
Hyunjin huffed. "Are you alright?"  
"I'm fine."  
"You're not."  
He stood up slowly, like he had previously received a blow to the stomach—which he would have preferred rather than heartbreak. "I said I'm fine," he repeated, eyes clashing onto Hyunjin's: he was just as hurt as he was. He looked helpless, innocent. But he was just as guilty as Changbin.  
"Come here," he said, pulling him closer into an embrace, stroking his hair and humming softly. He caressed him as if he was hugging a part of himself; his vulnerable side. "You're freezing." But Changbin didn't push him away, he didn't flinch and shrug; instead he buried his head in Hyunjin's chest, like the thousand times before because it was _safe_. He felt so weak, and Hyunjin made him feel even weaker, like his sensitive side got the best of him when he was with him. He didn't like that; how he had the ability to make him feel smaller. He hadn't noticed until now, and huffed at how pathetic he had been all along.

 

 

_Yellow, as the color of sunlight, is commonly associated with warmth. Yellow combined with red symbolizes heat and energy. As the color of light, yellow is also associated with knowledge and wisdom. it is freshness, clarity, enlightenment, remembrance, joy, loyalty, honor, intellect._

 

 

  
"I _need_ to say that I love you." But that meant so much more, of course; it meant more than those three simple words could have ever expressed. It didn't just mean that he was fond of Hyunjin—because he knew exactly how he felt, Hyunjin felt the exact same way—but instead it meant saying it out loud, shout it to the world, let it become a part of their reality, let society acknowledge that they loved each other, and that there was nothing wrong with being themselves. Changbin couldn't take it any longer; their love had shattered him, it had bruised his heart and pierced his lungs and numbed his lips and nurtured a poison in his soul which he didn't know how to get rid of. Saying 'I love you' out loud meant that those words wouldn't contain the same toxic and poisonous venom they used to have when their love was behind close doors, when it was in the dark. He wanted to free himself, he wanted a way out of the darkness because he couldn't keep on hiding this way, not with a tainted love.  
"Stop," he said, amid the confusion in his head; the music was still playing at the back but it wasn't soothing anymore, it was annoying and he begged for it to stop so that he could listen to the quietness of it all; to the quietness of his unbeating heart. There were plenty of voices overlapping and the nausea had returned and nothing felt right and nothing felt safe anymore and their bubble had ripped apart and they were now thrown again into the cruelness of society. "Stop, get off," he pleaded, hands snatching him away and pushing him aside with all the remaining strength he had left, Changbin's tears forming at the back of his eyes. Hyunjin stared back, perplexed, his arms still stretched out to him. But there was a new emotion behind them; a mix of disbelief and disappointment.  
Departure was tough but he had to break free from the heavy chains that had wrapped around him. He had become dependent of their love and of Hyunjin and knew that he couldn't live like this anymore, that it was too much to bear by himself. He felt dirty, like he had been commiting sins all along and couldn't look at the mirror anymore; afraid to face that he couldn't recognize who he was any longer, that he was utterly someone else, someone he never wanted to become. He had changed for the worse, lying to his friends and pretending that everything was all right but everything was actually wrong. And now, he knew it.  
"We have to tell Sooyoung." He had stopped crying, standing still against Hyunjin's hunched shoulders, his lips firm and voice neutral. They were a few feet apart but he knew that they were far from each other, _so far._  
"We are not." There wasn't anger in his tone—no outrage—, still his voice was shaking and Changbin failed to realize he was about to weep. _How the tables had turned..._  
There was nothing for a while; no music, no exchange of words, no feelings. Nothing. Just the two of them facing each other, listening to the breaking of their hearts; the breaking of their love. Just like broken glass; delicate yet tragic.  
"What are you so afraid of?"  
Hyunjin didn't answer right away; actually, he didn't answer until he was done huffing and puffing and whimpering and silent crying—he had realized the pain Changbin had been through, struggling on his own. He now felt naked and cold and vulnerable. "I'm afraid of facing the fact that I love you."  
"Why?"  
"Because," he said, hands on his face, wiping the tears and with it the remaining makeup away, "I wanted to love Sooyoung, I really did. I tried really hard. I wanted to stop pretending I loved her and genuinely feel that way towards her. I was afraid of realizing that all this time I had shut off a part of myself. I'm not ashamed, just disappointed. I'm disappointed in myself for not being like the rest of them want me to be."  
Changbin sent him an apologetic look, failing to deny that he wasn't hurt by Hyunjin. Yet, he had no idea why he allowed him to do that to him over and over again. But as he stood nonchalantly in his best suit and polished shoes, a touch of guilt shimmering in his eyes, and watched the minutes tick past on his watch, he realized he'd done it again: Hyunjin made him feel pity towards him. He felt pity towards Hyunjin because he was trapped in a web of lies and pretend and perfection and he didn't know how to break free—but deep down inside he knew the reason why; he had found comfort in a safety that just wasn't real. He had shielded himself in a safety based on fear of being excluded, a fear of being different than who he truly was. Changbin loathed how he had the ability to bathe him in his feelings, how attached he had become to Hyunjin's manipulation. Still, he had to blame himself.  
Changbin simply turned his gaze to him, swift and emanating with resigned sympathy. "I'm in fear of people perceiving me in ways I don't choose. And that perception becoming reality." Hyunjin's tone, now low and almost in a whisper, gave him away: he had begun crying again. "I'm losing grasp of who I am. Because if you take away my identity, what's left? Who am I?" Changbin didn't know who Hyunjin was anymore: he was warm and sweet and caring but was it just pretend? If he loved him as passionately, as fiercely as he demanded, what was he so afraid of? Why was he still chained under a safety that wasn't so safe anymore?  
"Hyunjin, you are still you," he said, smiling; hoping it would make him feel better because he could break away in any moment now and he was not about to pick somebody else's heart when he could barely keep his own pieces at ease, under control. "You can fake everything about your life, you can pretend to brush things off and push them aside but you cannot fake the love between us. You know it's there, it's the one thing you're failing to fake. And I see it, I can see it through your eyes. There's no denying: you tried to unlove me but you can't, because it would be unloving a part of you. You are incapable of unloving me." He had been straightforward because he was tired of it all: he didn't want to get caught up in another episode of Hyunjin being the center of everything that didn't revolve around him. He presented himself as someone loving and caring but inside he was empty, and Changbin couldn't fill that emptiness anymore because it was emptying him, draining the remaining love he gave, and that he never got back. And now Hyunjin was pleading for his words to stop so that they couldn't keep hurting him any longer because he couldn't face reality; he didn't know how. Nobody had ever taught him how complicated it is to love someone, and how things sometimes simply don't work out. He didn't know how to deal with heartbreak.  
"Why are you so cold to me?" Hyunjin kept his eyes steady, resting on his face like they were home, but just briefly, the sorrow already building. Changbin knew he was expecting him to break down and apologize and run back to his arms and bury his head in his chest but he wouldn't: it was his moment of rhapsody, of absolute awakening. The chains that had dragged him down to hell were now not more than mere dangled strings. It was sad though, how he had to say goodbye to a person that meant a home to him, to Hyunjin who was always cheerful and honest, yet an actor; how people could change in the spotlight haunted him, and he knew he had to keep away from it all because his confusion and deepened sorrow blinded him and the reality he had come to know came crumbling down with light—with sunrise.

 

 

_So, what is yellow? Yellow is Hwang Hyunjin. He is the sun, he is flowers, he is wisdom and happiness and optimism and goodness and ambivalence and amusement and energy and power. He is caution and betrayal and nobility and duplicity and jealousy._

_I loved a color that didn't go with mine._

_But he is warmth. He is hope and kindness. He is home._

 

 

"I'm not cold, I'm honest," he replied, his voice unwavering and firm; he wouldn't cry again over something like this because it was not a moment of sadness, but of happiness. "You've never been exposed to honesty because you're popular. And popular people love living in a fake world. I can't be a part of it any longer." He had seen so many sides of Hyunjin but this one was by far the worst; he was lost and beaten down and bruised and so different than who he was; both faking and truly himself. He couldn't acknowledge that he had to go looking for a new home, for another person who could fix him like Changbin tried but failed. "Break free of your shell, Hyunjin. Grow up. Face the fact that you're gay and it's okay. People will still love you for who you are. I'll still love you. I'm tired of hiding and so are you."  
Hyunjin stayed rooted to the spot, the breeze moving his hair softly away from the cheekbones that had become so much more prominent over the previous weeks. His features buckled just slightly before he spoke, the only betrayal of his grief, "You don't know anything about me."  
Changbin's heart sank even deeper, those words were like bullets coming through his heart and he held his breath, somehow hoping the pain would sweep away. It didn't. He didn't even try to dodge or duck the bullets; he had given up. He believed in his love, and that should have been enough to pull through. A part of himself still believed Hyunjin would hold his hand and invite him to dance, to break up with Sooyoung and that his life would suddenly turn into a fantasy, and that they would be joyous with themselves and that their love would bloom from its ashes. A part of himself still struggled forward, past the fire and the ashes and the caution signals and the pain. Because he had to, because he still loved him.  
"I'm yours. No matter if you turn your back on me, if you walk away, if you push me out of your way," he said, his breath shaking and his voice weak. _"I'm yours_ ," he repeated, this time more intensively, more meaningfully. He gave out his whole heart in those words, and now it was in between them, out in the cold night but it wouldn't freeze: Hyunjin was the sun, after all, and its warmth would keep it safe.  
"You gave me warmth, Hyunjin," he confessed, even though it was not simple to continue he carried on, "I needed a home to return to. You were there, like the sun; you were always there. Your warmth melted the deadly ice that had risen from the pain, from the burden of holding on for far too long, from the ice in my heart."  
Hyunjin's face was paler than Changbin ever recalled it being, as if his very blood was shrinking away from his presence, his lips almost ghostly. But Hyunjin just stood there, watching the bullets cut through his flesh and into his bones, cracking them mercilessly. He stood still, eyes pierced onto Changbin's, silent tears forming at the back of those eyes that now reflected a mix of pain and betrayal and disappointment and hurt. And undying love.  
Yet Changbin's heart was now an armor, protecting himself, and his eyes were empty. No more pain, no more misery. "I know what you're afraid of," he said, avoiding Hyunjin's stare and turning his gaze to the stars; there were so many of them, and he somehow felt they were shining just for them, to guide them home. "You're afraid because you know nobody will love you like I do. You're afraid because you know she won't love you like I do and that you will never love her like you love me."

 

 

_Sometimes I feel like I'm walking on the edge of the sun, in between the warmth of it and the darkness that surrounds its limits. The sun is a double-edged surface, it is a double-sharped knife, and sometimes I feel like the only thing preventing me from leaping into the void is his light, a beam of that sunshine—a lone sunray—beating down on me like he is reaching out to touch me with a part of himself, with his true self._

_And I just know, I can't let go. I can't give up on him._

 

 

"Loving you was like being shot to death. You came out of nowhere and I swear I had never fallen in love with someone so hard in my life. You were unpredictable, and I love unpredictable. I felt like you had cast a spell on me. You set me on fire, and I burned and burned, I was mesmerizing to you. It was bliss, as any love could be. But I was in pain too; there was this numbing pain in my stomach, like blood pouring out of my wounded chest, dripping down my body and trickling down my eyes into the ground, like I was touching the world for the first time. I couldn't stop, I kept on pushing forward and forward until I couldn't breathe anymore. Until I knew I was dying. And I knew I was following you blindly without realizing the rising thorns beneath my feet, the spines that penetrated my skin and burned me to the ground like ashes. And I realized that what hurt the most wasn't the numbing pain nor the thorns, it was your touch; your voice. Because it was so sweet it numbed my ears, it numbed the voices in my head telling me that what I was doing was wrong and that I was leading towards destruction. Towards heartbreak. Still, I followed you, because you were my new voice now."  
Their love had killed them bit by bit, they had pushed out every other emotion in their hearts except greed; they needed the other to keep themselves sane and connected to reality and to find their identities.  
"You should've given me something to hold on to, Hyunjin, like a fake hope, or a beautiful lie; maybe then things would've gone differently. Maybe you'd have changed and let us grow healthy into something beautiful." But for the first time, he couldn't picture an alternate reality where everything went right and there was no pain; he couldn't imagine any other scenario except this one, except the reality they were living. "I am not gonna allow myself to be defeated by what I may think is love within me. I will not allow myself to go back to what is wrong, what continues to hurt me, yet you made me stronger," he said, taking a look at Hyunjin: he wiped the dried tears from his pale skin and stared into his own empty eyes like he barely recognized himself. He was all choked up and couldn't find the words, but he had ceased crying; he was in shambles. A smile transformed Changbin's stern face but he wasn't happy Hyunjin was hurting; he was happy he was waking up. He hoped he would change, and that sooner or later Hyunjin would transform himself into who he truly was, that he would break off the fakeness and the pretending and that he would give his heart away and fall in love again, as recklessly as their love had been. For their love was now hopeless, they both knew it was over.  
They both nodded and gazed at each other vehemently, now chests pressed against each other once more but there was nothing. No kissing, no crying, no pain. It was the end yet there wasn't the regret there should have been; their gaze was that of appreciation, of finally letting go. It was wondrous. They had relinquished their love but their gaze contained a secret message, one that would never cease existing between them; that would always remain every time they gazed—or merely glanced—at each other: _I'm yours._

 

 

With each stride his mind became more clear, more resolute, as if the growing physical distance between them had now become an emotional chasm. As the nascent sunlight caressed his skin, promising a new dawn, a new beginning, he entombed his memories of him in thick walled ice. Then, abruptly pausing to close his eyes and take in a deep breath of dewy air, he steeled himself to only think of his future from here on in. A future he would mould, build, direct. Then with each stride after that he felt more in charge, in command of his own mind, body and soul. He was a man walking into his own destiny, a destiny that lay squarely in his own hands. Just like that, the night was over, bringing a new beginning with a new sun, a sun that was plain and ordinary; it wasn't warm, it was just there. It was nothing like Hyunjin but it felt good.

 

**Hyunjin**

**When I close my eyes I see you.**  

**I see all the imperfections, all that you hate about yourself but I can't help loving you for them.**

**You're not perfect, Hyunjin, even if people believe so. Even if people enforce that idea on you and you make it a part of yourself.**

**You'll never be perfect but you're perfect for me. Yet perfection doesn't exist.**

 

**When I open my eyes I see you.**

**I learned that our love wasn't simple, that it is perforated and bruised and it is not easy. It is needy and greedy and raw.**

**It is wrong.**

 

**I know we broke up, and I know we're both hurting right now. I'm sorry, this is for you; it came to my mind when I saw you at prom, and I always used to show you what I wrote about you so here you go, now you have a piece of my heart with you;**

 

**_I used to say thanks but now I'm reaching out to you,_ **

**_With you holding my hand I can shout a bigger dream_ **

_**If I could do anything for you I'd do it no matter what** _

_**If you could shine brighter, I'd be the dark.** _

_**It's too cold outside to be alone by myself** _

_**It's warm here, maybe because you're here,** _

_**Maybe because I'm on the edge of the sun.** _

_**You and I,** _

_**No one can replace you,** _

_**There is only one sun and it's you,** _

_**It'll always be you and I'll always be yours.** _

 

 

**Hold on to it when you're in need of someone and you feel like the world is a cold place.**

**I'm yours,**

**Binnie**

 

 

The halls are crowded with people, and the chaos is perfect; prom was weeks ago but the buzz anticipates the end of school year. He doesn't want to be here, nor does he want to have detention; it reminds him of Hyunjin, and he hasn't written anything since prom night. Somehow he feels he never will, and that he'll never be able to express how he feels through writing again. But he still draws, it being the reason he has detention again but he couldn't help himself; he had to let a part of himself out.  
He drew a sun this time; it had a combination of yellow and orange and red and white and its sunrays were stretching out in waves and he knew that he was getting rid of the remaining warmth he had left in his heart, for he had not drawn with the mind but with the heart. The sun now represented a symbol of power and strength. He didn't do it to reach out to him, he knows he might not ever recover if he reaches out too far but he has discovered his internal peace. He is pleased, like he has never been with his meaningless dragons. He won't ever reach out to the sun ever again, only in his drawings.  
Laughter sounds along the halls, joined with excited conversations and shouts. It is a mess, people claiming the end of the year is already upon them. But in truth, there is only a week left until they're free for the summer. Changbin wishes he could be happy: in part he is, because he won't be disturbed with homework and tests and studying and he will have time to write again (he hopes). He also won't be seeing Hyunjin for 3 whole months. But he knows that everything will change during summer and he is both ready and terrified of change. Things have already changed but he knows he is not ready for a bigger change.  
"I felt like I was in a limbo. Like in a car and the outside lights are flashing past the car and they're all blurry and I can't seem to know where I'm going but pleading for the car to never stop and go round and round the same road until it all stops. Until I fall asleep and the lights disappear and there is no traffic, no noise, nothing, just my breathing." A breath of air brushes his ear; he follows the breeze and sees a blue striped paper plane gracefully gliding through the air before sliding across the tiled hall to stop with its nose against the wall: he feels like that paper plane but his flight is done already. He watches as Jisung nods, softly bumping his shoulder in emotional support.  
"Why am I so devastated it didn't work out?" he asks, shoulders hunched, head down low. He is having trouble maintaining his eye contact; he somehow feels embarrassed towards his friends, especially Jisung, because he knew all along that this would happen to him. But when he called him after prom and told him what had happened, how badly his heart had broken, he didn't laugh at him. He didn't tell him the well-deserved 'I told you so'. He did nothing but be there for him and listen to his cries and comfort him and offer Changbin a hand. And he dragged him out of his darkness and numbness and emptiness and brought him back to reality.  
A lot happened in the last few weeks: Changbin came out to his parents, and it turned well in the end. They didn't understand, of course, but they loved their son and it took them a while to come to terms with it but they were supportive. They were _there_. Hyunjin, on the other hand, hadn't changed at all: he was still with Sooyoung, and he was still the most popular guy in school. Yet Changbin knew he wasn't as pristine on the inside as he was on the outside.  
He knew what happened between them: he wanted an escape, they both did. They had sheltered themselves from the storm of their daily lives; they saved each other, if only for a little while. But when he really gave in, when he became invested, let himself be vulnerable, something changed. He began to feel like he knew Hyunjin. It was no longer an escape, but a part of him, something that made him who he was. Hyunjin taught him that incredible adversity could be overcome. That people could love each other forever, that life could be an adventure. That magic could be real. And even if they didn't work out in the end, he began to go through life believing that, someday, miracles could happen.  
"Maybe it's because you wanted it to be perfect. And you know, perfection doesn't exist no matter how much we try to look for it. It's never gonna be there. It's an illusion, a fantasy. It's amorphous and unattainable."  
"It didn't work out because it wasn't real," he says, affirming what Jisung is trying to say. Deep down inside, he knows. He buries his head in his locker once more before slamming it and walking away. Changbin keeps his head down and pushes his way through the sea of despondent faces. And then he sees him, walking in front of his group of 'friends', smiling and chatting like he has a thousand stories to tell, all eyes on him like is the most important person on Earth—yet to Changbin he still is.  
His hair is ruffled against the summer breeze, shirt still white and buttoned up but he looked fantastic, as always. His enchanting aura seeps into the summer air between the students. And in that moment, in that fraction of time, he smiles at him and Changbin knows he is home. Their eyes collide and there is nothing but colors surrounding them, and the world stops for a while. Hyunjin smiles at him; like the sun, like a beam of that light is reaching out to him and he can feel his warmth—the warmth of the surface of the sun—once more before it's gone, before he can reach him completely and the smile fades and Changbin knows he now has to jump. That he can now let go. And there is nothing, just void.

 

 

_Yellow. What is yellow? Yellow is Hwang Hyunjin._

**Author's Note:**

> pls if u like this au kudo it or just comment whatever, you have no idea how helpful the feedback is !! thank u :)  
> it's the first time in my whole life that i actually described kisses sO UM im inexperienced when it comes to this so i hope it wasn't so bad ... insert eye side emoji here  
> as many of you (if not all of you) know that changbin's lyrics to hyunjin are from 'i am you' (which you can listen to [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CNfodZluR-Q)) but i added some additional lyrics so that it matches the au a bit more :) i hope you liked the final result !  
> also, reminder that english is not my first language so i apologize for the mistakes ALSO AS THIS AU IS LONG AS HELL I HAVEN'T SPELLCHECKED IT YET SO I'M SORRY IF IT HAD ANY MISTAKES (WHICH IT PROBABLY DID DFJK)  
> you can find me [here](https://curiouscat.me/180325) :)


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